Love is Only Sleeping
by star collector
Summary: Post Lost Son. Calleigh's having trouble sleeping...


These aren't my character, alas and alack, I'm just playing with them.

This is kinda set sometime in season three, post Lost Son. It's a bit old, and a bit drabbly and I really don't like the ending.

**Love is Only Sleeping**

* * *

He kissed her forehead and smoothed down her hair as she slept. He always came to her when she was sleeping; it was easier for him, and he knew it was easier for her too. Her nightmares were a common occurrence, and he knew that he had to be there for her, even if she wasn't aware of him.

As his lips left her head she let out a distressed moan. She was dreaming again. He moved from standing beside her bed to the other side of it and lay down beside her. His arms wrapped around her waist, trying to give her some sort of comfort while she dreamt.

He knew what she dreamt of, it was always the same, _his_ death, although she hadn't been there to see it, she had seen the video from store's security cameras. He'd been there when she'd watched it, was there when she watched it every other day, as if trying to find some way to bring _him_ back, or a was to stop _him_ from dying. It always turned out the same, _his_ gun malfunctioned, and _he_ was shot. For him, watching her watching _his_ death, broke his heart. And there was nothing he could do about it, and he knew it.

"Tim." She half whispered, half moaned, and tossed in her sleep. He held her tighter, wishing that she didn't have to re-live _his_ death. He hated it, hated himself for not being able to prevent it, hated the man that had killed _him_. But he really hated not being able to stop Calleigh from hurting. It killed him watching her every night dreaming of _his_ death.

Calleigh stilled, now silently crying in her sleep, punctuated by murmurs of Tim's name. He attempted to soothe her, stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort softly in her ear. "Please don't leave me Tim, I need you. I love you." Calleigh's soft cries had turned into sobs that shook her body. He hated this part of Calleigh's nightmare, hearing her pleas, and previously unknown and undeclared love for _him_.

It had shocked him at first. She'd never given any indication of her feelings. Hadn't shown it at his funeral, cried like the rest of the team, but she hadn't broken down completely until she was in the privacy of her apartment and had drunk half a bottle of rum to try and erase the pain.

He wished he'd known of her love for _him_, it might have stopped the whole thing in the first place. Maybe if they'd acted on their feelings, he would've remembered to clean his gun, or Calleigh would have done it for him, or made him do it weekly, or… He stopped himself, knowing that really, it wouldn't have changed anything, he still would have tried to shoot with a dirty gun, and the only thing that would have changed would be Calleigh's grief and anger towards him.

He knew that she was angry at him, for not doing as she asked him so long ago, could hear it in her voice when she talked to him after she got home from work. Home to _his_ apartment. After his death, she'd taken over his lease and had promptly moved in. She'd kept most of his furniture, if not all of it. His darkroom was still in tact; nothing had been moved from it. In fact, the only things that had been taken were some photos she'd given to his parents after the funeral. Her things had been mixed in with his throughout the living room, almost as if they both lived there. He found it strange whenever he was here. Seeing her curled up in his bed, often one of his shirts clutched tightly in her hands, a picture of him on the bedside table. He often wondered if the rest of the team knew about all this. They must have known that she'd moved into his place, but did they know that she'd kept the place almost as a shrine to him? Probably not, he guessed. They had no idea how deep her grief went, or that she'd been in love with _him_.

He sighed as Calleigh calmed down in her sleep, and rubbed a hand over his tired face. It had been so long since he'd slept. Even before the shooting his nights had been haunted by images of Calleigh. He'd known he was in love with her, had known for years, but was always too shy, too unsure, too afraid to reveal his feelings. He wished to God that he had. Maybe he'd be lying in bed with her, wanted and needed, and more importantly, loved.

He'd hated finding out about her relationship with Hagen. He'd wanted to punch the jackass every time he saw Calleigh with him. And for someone that prided himself on maintaining a cool and calm demeanour that was something, especially considering that he wasn't really one for violence either. But for some odd reason, he was glad that Calleigh had been happy for a brief period of time. Although he'd never understand how she could be happy with such a narcissistic prick. But it hadn't lasted that long. And he'd been glad when he'd found out it was over.

There had been times, even when he knew she was with Hagen, when he'd almost admitted to her how he felt. But somehow the words failed to come out, and the moment had passed by. There were a quite a few of missed moments, he reflected. He was surprised at the frequency of them, and the fact that no one had seemed to pick up on them.

The number of times that he'd almost said something when she was in his lab, hovering over his shoulder, so when he turned to face her, his lips were only inches away from hers. Really he should have realised how she felt. But he'd been flustered at the thought of her being so close, that he'd forgotten to speak. Not that she'd have known how her close proximity had affected him, and he was thankful for that.

He kissed her cheek, as she moved deeper into his embrace. She turned towards him, her lips pressed up against his neck.

He inhaled sharply, as she began to cover his collarbone with kisses, her body tantalisingly moving against his.

His hands moved in circles across her back and she moaned at the sensation, causing her kisses to increase. He closed his eyes, enjoying her kisses, knowing that this would never happen outside of her bed.

Her lips whispered _his_ name before they met his in passionate kiss. Yet another thing he would never be able experience when she was awake. He kissed her earnestly in return, wanting nothing more than for this kiss to never end. She released his lips moments later. Even in her sleep she knew that she needed to breathe.

"I love you" was followed by another of her kisses and her hands moving against his chest. And he was lost.

Lost in her kisses, lost in her caresses; lost in her.

He wished, not for the first time, that he was able to be here while she was awake, so that she would know how much she meant to him, how much he loved her.

But he knew that it would never happen. He couldn't let it. To tell her now would hurt them both. She was still too in love with _him_, and he wasn't sure how she'd take his declaration. Not now anyway. He sighed, sick of his depressing and lonely thoughts. Instead he turned his attention to the woman in his arms, marvelling at the softness of her skin and the silken touch of her lips against his cheek. A grin slowly spread across his face as she moved her hands down his body. Her lips found his once more and he could feel her passion for _him_ through her kiss.

"I love you so much Cal." He whispered to her as she finally broke the kiss, and held her tightly, afraid she would leave him then and there.

His eyes flicked to the window, trying to see if it was near sunrise. He still had an hour or so he guessed. Once more he returned his gaze to her, wondering if it would be better to leave now or stay for as long as he possibly could. He knew his answer, it always the same to the question he asked himself every night. He would stay until the very last minute before she woke up. He'd been doing this for long enough to recognise the signs of her waking up.

She was calm in her sleep. A good sign he supposed. She was no longer dreaming about _him_. Sometimes he enjoyed this part of her sleep more than others, when he knew that her thoughts of _him_ no longer haunted her dreams. It was then when he could have her to himself in a way. There was no distraction of _him_ and his memory.

His hour with her passed quickly, the last hour always did for him.

He succumbed to the drowsy warmth of her body and fell into his first contented sleep, since _his_ death. His arms bringing her closer to him, once more enjoying her willing body nestled against his chest. The last thought he had was of her lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.

He forced his eyes open, before he could truly fall asleep. And then he let her go. As he always did. As much as he hated to do it, it was necessary. Necessary for him and more importantly, her. He had to leave, before he did something stupid, like spend the rest of the night there in her bed, and have her wake up with him still beside her. As much as he wanted for that to happen, he knew that he couldn't let it. It would ruin everything that he had worked so hard for.

Reluctantly he let go of the woman he loved, and gave her one last kiss before moving out of the bed.

As he moved to the door, he turned back to look at her, the same expression on his face as there was every night when he left, one of wistful longing mixed with agony and heartache. He gave a quiet sigh and then walked out of the door, silently shutting it after him.

Calleigh woke moments later, her hand reaching out to where he had been, and feeling the warmth that his body had left on the sheets. She gave a small frown, for having missed him yet again. He always seemed to know just when she was about to wake up, or at least that's how it seemed to her. A small sigh escaped her lips, as she buried her head into the pillow his had recently been on. She could still smell his after shave on the linen. Trying desperately not to cry, like she did every other night, Calleigh bit her lip and forced herself to think of something else. Anything but _him_.

It never seemed to work though. His scent had permeated her mind, and nothing she thought of could make her forget that _he_ had been in her bed. Letting out another small sigh Calleigh sat up and attempted to look around the dark room just in case he was still there. It was a stupid move, she knew, he was never there when she awoke, but that never stopped her from looking. And she knew that she would always look for the man that she loved, but never told.


End file.
